


happiness is a lit cigarette

by Medie



Category: The Pretender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Patience, Miss Parker," Jarod's voice is a playful tease. "You don't want to spoil the game now, do you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	happiness is a lit cigarette

**Author's Note:**

> a sequel to [Philadelphia](http://archiveofourown.org/works/75987). Miss Parker and Jarod have their say. Also sex. Because it's them and that's what they do.

Lyle vanishes. Miss Parker wishes.

Standing outside his building, drizzle falling around her, she watches the techs work. They swarm Lyle's car like insects, scanning and sampling everything in sight. They aren't finding anything, frustration written across their faces, and she's amused.

Her fingers itch for a cigarette. She tightens them around the handle of her umbrella.

"It's not the same," she says.

Sydney looks sideways at her. He raises one eyebrow. Miss Parker smirks. "No chalk outline."

"_Miss Parker_," he chides. Her smirk widens. "Really."

"Oh, come on, Syd," she says, shrugging water from her shoulders. "Like you aren't thinking it."

"I'm not," he says blandly.

She doesn't believe him.

-

"They didn't find anything," Broots reports.

Miss Parker unfolds her legs, crosses them, and taps a pen against her desk. "Of course they didn't." She holds out her free hand. "Give."

He passes her the file. "No sign of Jarod anywhere."

"There wouldn't be," she says. "It wasn't him."

-

There's nothing to prove otherwise. The others don't believe her. They point to Lyle's history with Jarod as if it means anything. It doesn't.

"It's not him," she tells Sydney after a day.

Sydney nods. "I know. He hasn't called. Hasn't emailed. If it were Jarod, we'd know by now." He looks up. Her father walks past without a glance her way. Miss Parker doesn't flinch, but she wants to. "The question is, who else would it be?"

"Who wouldn't it be?" Miss Parker shrugs. "It's Lyle. You know him, you hate him." She taps a toe against the floor. God, she needs a cigarette. "The list of people with grudges is long and storied."

Sydney smiles. "Do you have any idea of which story we're talking?"

"The same one as always," she turns away. "Jarod's."

-

All roads lead to Rome. At the Centre, all stories lead to Jarod.

-

"Broots."

He jumps, spilling corn chips across the floor. One crunches beneath Miss Parker's shoe. She looks down. "S-sorry," he stutters. "I – "

Miss Parker shrugs. "It's been two days," she says. "Take Lyle's computers apart, see if there's anything worth talking about." She leans against his desk, sees the picture of Debbie. It's new. "She's growing up."

Broots beams. "I keep telling her to knock it off, but she never listens."

"They never do." She jabs one finger into his shoulder. "Lyle's computers. Put a rush on it."

"I can't just go into his offices and – "

"Yes. You can," she says, her voice tight. "Just do it. I'll worry about the fall out."

"What are you really looking for?" Broots asks. She approves. It's refreshing.

"It's Lyle," she says, her voice almost light. Chipper. God, she hates feeling chipper, but this? Is actually fun. She almost wishes Jarod was behind this. She's enjoying it. "What am I not looking for?"

-

"Are you having fun?"Jarod's voice is smug. Over the phone, his voice is still a rough promise. Miss Parker closes her eyes. His voice whispers of stubble burning against thigh, fingers making her scream, and hot skin beneath her hands.

She sinks into the tub, letting the hot water close around her and ignores the ache between her legs. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I think I already do," he says. "It wasn't me, but you know that already."

"Hmm," she sighs, relaxing. "Of course." Opening her eyes, she stretches one leg out before her and watches the bubbles slide over her skin. "I also know that you know who did." She doesn't prompt him further, just waits. She can feel the smug satisfaction hanging between them. He's dying to tell her, all she has to do is wait.

"I know," Jarod agrees. "Did you know Lyle had a new project?"

"It's Lyle," says Miss Parker. "He has the attention span of a gerbil." She reaches for the loofah.

"Broots hasn't finished his analysis yet, huh?" Jarod asks. "You should call him."

"Why?" she asks. "You're going to tell me anyway. You babble less." She slides the loofah along one leg, tries not to wish another hand held it. She frowns at the thought. She's not that pathetic. "No stammering."

Jarod laughs. She doesn't shiver. "Emily," he says. His voice lowers, darkens, and her hand stills.

"Lyle's been looking for your sister?" she asks, knowing what the answer will be. Of course he is. It's _Lyle_. The only surprise is that it took him this long. "Moron." She sits up, scowling. "Fucking moron."

"Hard to believe you two are related, isn't it?" Jarod asks.

"More and more all the time," she agrees. "Where is he?"

"Patience, Miss Parker," Jarod's voice is a playful tease. "You don't want to spoil the game now, do you?"

She thinks of the Centre. Her scowl becomes a smirk. "No need to rush."

"Thought you'd say that," Jarod purrs. She takes in a breath, slow and measured. "It's too bad."

"What is?" she asks.

"I can't wash your back," he sounds regretful. "Bubble baths should never be taken alone."

-

There's a box of chocolates on her desk in the morning. Expensive. She brushes her fingertips along the surface. Hears the crackle of paper. Lifting the lid, she finds a note waiting inside.

_Maybe next time._

She eats a chocolate. "Maybe."

-

"You aren't going to believe this!" Broots says, rushing through the door. His laptop is clutched tight between his hands. "Lyle's computers – "

"He's been looking for Jarod's sister." Miss Parker licks her lip, tasting chocolate. "I know." She waves a hand. "Let's see it. I want to know how close he got."

"Close." Broots puts the laptop on her desk, turning it to face her. He leans forward, reaching for the keyboard. "Unbelievably close. In fact – " Her office door opens and he freezes, teetering over her desk.

"It's just Sydney, idiot," she snaps, slamming a finger down on the enter key. "What does Lyle know?"

"He found Emily's current alias. There's weeks worth of surveillance shots on his hard drive." Broots scurries around the desk, batting her hands away from the keys. "He was just watching her."

"Waiting for the right moment," Miss Parker smirks. "Stupid."

"Lyle found Jarod's sister?" Sydney looks alarmed. "How?"

"Because she let him." Miss Parker sits back in her chair. A tiny grin plays about her lips as she savors the moment. It's like a fine wine. She's not going to ruin it by rushing. Inhaling slowly, she steeples her fingers. "He must be so proud."

"Oh no," Sydney says, shaking his head. "Absolutely not. She wouldn't – "

"On the contrary, Syd," Miss Parker says. "Yes, she would."

-

Her phone rings. She bites into a chocolate, licking caramel from her fingers. "How quickly they grow up."

Jarod chuckles. "There's an email on your computer."

"Did we discover internet porn?" she asks. Her laptop's in the living room. She takes the chocolates with her.

"Old news," Jarod says. "Though I did find one site. People post pictures of cats with grammatically incorrect captions. They're really quite funny."

"I'm sure they are." Miss Parker opens her email, lips twisting into a smirk. "Nice."

"I especially like the bow," says Jarod. "It's a nice touch."

"Yeah, baby sister has style," Miss Parker agrees. "Thinking of making it a family act?"

"Who knows?" Jarod muses. "It certainly seems to work for you and Lyle." He hangs up.

-

A bottle of champagne arrives. Miss Parker finds the address inside. She finishes the chocolates, has a drink, and books a flight.

She wants to see this for herself.

-

The warehouse is dark, dank, and she loves it. It's just what Lyle needs. She thinks of him, locked up for a week here, and shakes her head. The temper tantrums must be beautiful. "God, I hope there's video."

The thought of Lyle raging, unable to escape, makes her smile. Miss Parker lets the car door slide shut with a soft thud and starts forward. As dark as it appears outside, it's darker inside. She takes a moment to let herself adust, sliding her sunglasses into her pocket. The cool air is musky, too heavy to carry dust.

A chill races down her spine and a hand closes around her wrist. The grip tugs her off balance, but Miss Parker goes with it. She twists, sliding a foot around his, and uses his momentum against him.

Hands around his, she drives Jarod back against the tin wall. He connects with a grunt, his hand resting against her back.

"Good to see you too," he says, hoarse.

Miss Parker slides a leg between his, pressing closer. "Where is he?"

"Do you care?"

She considers it. "Not at the moment."

-

Jarod stretches beneath her. She holds on. Her nails dig into his flesh and he hisses. She bites his lip and he moans. She thinks she could kill him now and he'd just beg for more.

She comes, biting her lip so Lyle won't hear.

-

"And just where the hell have you been?" Raines rasps over the squeak of his oxygen tank's wheels. He stops in front of the elevator, preventing Miss Parker's passage. "The search for Lyle – "

"Is over."

He looks at her, breath hissing in and out. "Where?"

She lifts one shoulder, a half-shrug of dismissal. Raines stares at her, his eyes searching. Miss Parker holds his gaze. The only evidence is the mark of Jarod's fingers on her hips. Five fingertips on each.

Miss Parker smirks. Raines moves.

-

There's email waiting. From Jarod. She lights a cigarette, indulging herself just this once. She clicks on the attached video file and relaxes, blowing smoke as Lyle's ranting fills the air.

-

She forwards it to Lyle. _Better luck next time._


End file.
